


Coming to Terms

by JumanjiiCostco



Series: Alive in the Dark [1]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Multi, honestly a lot of it is self-reflection on mark's part, i have a lot of feelings about this kid you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumanjiiCostco/pseuds/JumanjiiCostco
Summary: Nothing about Annabelle's departure from his life feels real. Nothing at all.A character study about Mark Temple inspired by Illenium & Jon Bellion's "Good Things Fall Apart".**SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3, EPISODE 2**





	Coming to Terms

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to the LA By Night fan works! I had a lot of fun (and a lot of emotion) working on this particular piece, but Mark has been on my mind from the first time he got mentioned in the first episode. And as soon as he showed up on screen, I knew I had to write something.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy! You can find me here and on tumblr @jumanjiicostco for more shenanigans.

It doesn’t feel real. 

There’s an undercurrent of something in her voice that he can’t put his finger on, and that’s bad enough. But the worst of it is the words. The worst of it is the silence that falls around the words. The worst of it is everything about this particular phone call. 

_ “I just--I have to go somewhere and I--I can’t take you with me. I love you. I love you so much, Marcus Aurelius Temple. I have to go. Bye.” _

It doesn’t feel real. 

Not when he sets the phone down and picks it up again and sets it down and picks it up. Not when he finally decides to make the call and it goes straight to voicemail. Not the three times he leaves messages composed exclusively of silence, because there aren’t words for what’s running through his mind. It doesn’t feel real when the sun rises and he’s barely slept. Or on the walk to class. Or when he inhales something vaguely breakfast-shaped. His dad’s name ends up in the news again. Isaiah sends him the link. He doesn’t respond.

The first thing to feel real is Ellenore. She looks like she’s gotten about as much sleep as he has, like she’s just rolled out of bed after a soul-shaking nightmare. Neither of them say a word and that’s enough. 

(Later, he finds out she hasn’t been to their place in days. That she left Elle some cryptic messages about finding answers about her weird condition. Later, he finds out she’s been gone longer than he thought.) 

The next few days are a blur. There’s class of course, and there’s group. There’s homework and presentations and research. The world doesn’t slow just because Annie’s gone. Isaiah sends him a couple of memes. Ellenore texts him good night. Sour Sugar plays on the campus green. His mom calls on Friday. Everything proceeds like clockwork. Everything except him. 

He tries calling again. The number has been disconnected. 

There’s a hollow spot in his chest, cold and empty like death. It aches every time his phone buzzes and it’s not Annabelle. 

(Update: it’s never Annabelle.) 

(Update: the cold spreads to his lungs.) 

She’s not dead, but she’s not around, either, and there’s an Annabelle-shaped hole in everything he does. And not being dead doesn’t keep grief away. Even when he thinks it should. 

Denial is the easiest part. She’s not dead, so she’s not really gone. Not forever. She’ll be back, and when she is, she’ll take over leading the group again and be proud of the work he and Elle and Maria have put into progressing it. She’ll come back and everything will fall back into place. Just like before. 

Anger takes the longest to shake. It finds a home in his gut and his fists and his mouth. It’s a practice he learned from Victor a long time ago--how to let wounded pride burn on the pyre of self-righteous fury. He spits blood and venom in tandem and anyone who hasn’t learned to fear the Temple name has another thing coming. Anger lights a fire to burn the cold away, scathing and wild. This is when they find out about the money. This is when they put out the fliers. This is when they start the fight for the integrity of their school. But the flames from his gut don’t reach his chest, don’t warm the hollow, frost-bitten lungs. And eventually they die down, too. 

Bargaining is the second hardest part of the Annabelle-shaped hole in his life. He makes a good couple of good cases: He’ll give up school to bring her back. He’ll give up football season for a phone call. He’ll give up his apartment for a glimpse of her on the street. He’ll give up the group for an explanation. Bargaining is a good case in humility; on the bad nights, it’s more groveling, and on the good nights, it’s texting Elle and hoping maybe she’ll answer this time. 

Bargaining is the second hardest, because that’s when Victor calls. He can’t remember the last time his voice was directed at his father in real-time. The walls fly up like they’re theater props that weigh nothing. The phone call is barely two minutes. 

Bargaining is the stage that gets cut off at the jugular. Because she’s not gone. Because she’s in Los Angeles. Because she’s not just here in Los Angeles, she’s at the Maharani. And because the Maharani isn’t just anyone’s club. It’s Victor’s. 

Bargaining is done for. Anger roars back to life in the deepest pit of his gut and it might burn the cold place right out of his chest this time. It might burn him alive. That might be the best ending for this.

She only texts back at night, so it’s the next night that he finds himself in the parking lot of his father’s club. It helps, in small part, that the Maharajah burned down recently. That it made the news and that Isaiah said he’d be coming back soon. It helps, in small part, that he knows Victor’s empire is suffering some sort of blow. 

~~It doesn’t help at all. Nothing does. But lying about it fills the silence around him.~~

“I’m here.” 


End file.
